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I can feel hope beginning to sprout from all parts of me that were once punctured.

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More breath than mind. More moon silk than sunbeam. More bone than break.
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My heart died in your hands and resurrected in my own.
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Calmness will always produce solutions. No revolution ever began without a sharp exhale.
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You were so gentle with my messy burdens, my tender wounds and the cracks in my broken soul that I became gentle with them, too.
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You reach a dangerous level of independence the moment you realize you are beating.
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Beneath your mind chatter is your very own grounded wisdom. Open yourself to it.
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Fear creates space for creativity. Love creates space for healing.
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My head screamed. I want to make them burn the way they did to me. My heart cried that’s not who you are.
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The less thinking. The more breathing. Stay in this space a little longer.
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Swirl me around in your teacup and drink me until tiny particles of my sugar are encrusted on your lips.
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Take refuge in your own arms. Collapse into the protection of your own body. It’s the safest home you will ever know.
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You are the sun. Soft yellow. Beaming flames. Gentle and fierce all at once.
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My body has forgotten what my own warmth feels like and the ice on my skin has frost bitten all those who have tried to hold me.
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I have died and rebirth a million times inside this body, and I have met a million people because of it.
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